


The Power Everlasting

by DuplexBeGreat



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 04:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13967349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuplexBeGreat/pseuds/DuplexBeGreat
Summary: For reasons he cannot understand, Jayfeather did not lose his powers as the others did when the battle with the Dark Forest ended. The answer he finds is grander than he ever could have imagined.





	The Power Everlasting

The young cat’s paws trembled as he walked up to the edge of the bare patch of ground where the stones lay. As simple as it was to take one in his paw and push it towards one of the two equally-sized piles on either side, the burden of the impossible knowledge he held made the weight of the stone feel like that of a boulder, made his paws feel like they were being dragged through heaps of mud. The countless ages that stretched from this moment into the future bore down on his shoulders and filled his head with fear as he realized just how much was being asked of him.

_ How can I do this? Knowing what I know, how can I make any decision at all? How can I shape the fate of the entire world for generations to come? _ This was the past. Everything taking place had already happened, as if it were set in stone. And yet the young cat knew that it was not nearly that simple, for every cat here had, of their own free will, chosen where to cast their vote. The immovable paths of history had been walked by  _ somebody _ , and he was witnessing the moment of their construction.  _ And I am a part of it _ , he thought.  _ Every action I take, every word I speak will be recorded by eternity. I am creating my  _ own  _ history _ .

It was terrifying.

And yet he had to choose.

“They have to go to the mountains,” he whispered in an undertone, trying to reassure himself that this was the best course, the  _ only _ course he could take. “They will become the Tribe of Rushing Water.” It had already happened, after all. Every cat he was speaking to now was long dead, their names forgotten ages before he was even born. The Tribe of Rushing Water had lived in the cave behind the waterfall for infinite moons. Nothing could change that, because it had already happened.

_ Because I  _ made _ it happen _ , the young cat thought.

The immeasurable silence that had descended upon the gathered cats was, an everlasting second later, broken by a wail of heartwrenching anguish, one that every cat present knew could only have been born of a mother grieving for her kit. “No! No! Fallen Leaves, I didn’t mean it! I want to stay with you!” It was Broken Shadow.

A jolt of horror ran through the young cat as he realized the full consequences of his forced exodus. His friend had been abandoned to roam the underground tunnels for moon after moon after moon, never knowing what had become of his kin and friends.  _ Because of me _ . The young cat barely heard the next words spoken by Half Moon, by Furled Bracken and the others, as he withdrew deep inside himself, trying to block out the noise as he wrestled with his guilt. Cats would die on the journey to the mountains, and more would follow as this group struggled to adapt to their new home.  _ Because of me. _

 

That night, as the cats prepared to begin their fateful trek, the old cat appeared before him. Together they returned home, to the time of ThunderClan and the warrior code. As he exited the tunnels, Jaypaw paused a moment to grieve. He had been away from his rightful time and his Clan for only a few days, and then, without even saying goodbye, had come back through the tunnels as if his pawsteps knew exactly where to take him.

Fallen Leaves, though, would never emerge from those tunnels, would never again share prey with his mother or hear the praise in the voice of his father. He would never be honored by the sharpclaws as one of their own, and would never again feel the first warm sunlight of newleaf on his pelt.

Fallen Leaves, Jaypaw knew, viewed him as a brother after they had shared the experience of drowning as the tunnels filled with rainwater.  _ But I’m the one who consigned his spirit to stay down there forever, and who convinced his kin to leave their home behind. To me, his entire life was nothing more than a puzzle to be solved. _

_ I did this. I had no choice, and yet all the same, the memory will haunt me forever. _

 

* * *

 

The old cat, though his eyes were beyond help, saw with perfectly clarity the tragic scene unfolding before him. Though he would never have let either of the other cats present glimpse his sorrow, pain stabbed at his heart as he relived this most senseless of deaths.

The young cat, his heart not yet tempered by the sombering knowledge of what had always been and what was to come, was still futilely attempting to save his drowning companion. Could he not feel the currents pulling them both down to the merciless depths of the lake? Had he no regard for what was  _ important _ , for how little this other medicine cat meant in the grand scheme of things?

Of course not. He was, enviably, still young. However much he might put up a wall of barbed insults to guard his emotions against any perception of weakness by his Clanmates, he would never leave a cat in danger to perish. Only with time would he learn that this death could not be changed, that nothing could be changed. He would come to understand that, though every cat could strut about all they liked and try to make their own decisions, no one was truly master of their own destiny.

Everything that would happen had already happened—including Flametail’s death.

_ Let him go! _ The old cat screamed the words into the younger one’s mind, allowing Flametail to overhear them as well, in the hopes that he would understand why he had to die.

The young cat refused, still kicking with all his might against the hungry forces of the water. The old cat grew annoyed. Did this imbecile truly think that his shoreline splashes with Cinderpelt’s doppelganger would allow him to survive a battle against the ice-cold lake in its full fury?

The old cat spoke again, forcing his mental “voice” to avoid betraying even the slightest hint of the sorrow he felt.  _ It is his time to die, not yours. Let him go! _

Finally, the young cat listened to reason. With a last twinge of utmost regret emanating from his pelt, he unhooked his claws from the ginger tom’s fur and, freed of his burden, began to return to the surface.

Flametail sank down into the darkness, never to be seen by the cats who lived around the lake again. The old cat knew that the light had already left him long before he hit the bottom. Nonetheless, his sightless eyes continued to follow the dark ginger scrap of what had once been a cat as it plunged into the deep. He owed the ShadowClan medicine cat that much, at least.

_ After all _ , Rock thought, his musings filled with grief yet not controlled by it,  _ I caused this death.  _ Perhaps the young cat would have been able to successfully carry Flametail to the surface, had Rock not interrupted them. Perhaps not.  _ We will never know. I did not take that risk then, and I do not take it now. For the safety of the Three, Flametail had to die. _

_ I did this. I had no choice, and yet all the same, the memory will haunt me forever. _

 

* * *

 

Once more into the tunnels.

He had lied. Just as much as Squirrelflight and Leafpool before him, he had lied to those he cared for most. Only, unlike the sisters who had tried to keep a devastating secret from destroying their lives, he had no reason. He did not know what had compelled him to utter an outright falsehood to Lionblaze and Dovewing—because it was what they wanted to hear most? Because it would help comfort them as they dealt with the loss of their powers? Because StarClan had reached into his mind and whispered that he must?

No, StarClan couldn’t have done that. After all, he had more power than StarClan. That was the great secret Jayfeather had kept: He had not lost his powers after the battle, as Lionblaze and Dovewing had. His brother had been horrified to discover that he could now get a thorn in his pad just like any other warrior, and their younger companion struggled in vain to listen to conversations in the ShadowClan camp as she had once done with ease. Through it all, Jayfeather felt every wave of grief, fear, and ultimately acceptance flow from them. They rolled as easily into his thoughts as the scent of a plump mouse from the fresh-kill pile wafted into his nose.

He had checked, just to be sure. Perhaps the prophecy had spared him due to his blindness, and allowed him to retain the feeling for other cats’ emotions that he used by reflex to navigate day-to-day Clan life? Perhaps his more intrusive abilities had gone.

And yet that night he had slipped into Bramblestar’s dreams the instant his eyes closed. From there he had sought out Leafpool, then Littlecloud, then Reedwhisker. Every one of them was open to him. The next day, while passing Thornclaw on the way to the dirtplace, Jayfeather had plunged into the golden warrior’s memories and observed as that morning’s dawn patrol left their scent on the stream that marked the border with WindClan. It was just as easy as it had always been.

He could think of only one explanation: His powers, somehow, were still needed. The prophecy had not yet been fulfilled.

_ But how _ , he asked himself,  _ when the battle with the Dark Forest is over? How can there be  _ more _ to my destiny?  _ Reflecting back on the battle, though, he realized that he had hardly done anything special to bring the Clans victory. Lionblaze had fought with the strength of an entire patrol, and Dovewing had used her abilities to send cats to where they were needed most… but what had he, Jayfeather, achieved? Yes, he had united StarClan before the battle began, but his powers hadn’t even been needed for that. The other medicine cats had helped him, and ultimately it had been Firestar’s noble presence that convinced their ancestors to put aside their differences and stand as a single Clan once more.

And there was more bothering him. Jayfeather remembered the words spoken to him and the other cats of the Three as they searched aimlessly to find the Fourth cat.  _ Did you think you were the only cat with power over other cats’ dreams? You idiots! _ At the time, he had not had the luxury of giving this much thought, but now… it was disturbing. Yes, Rock had always been able to appear to him in visions, seemingly on a whim, but Jayfeather had never before heard the older cat describe this omnipresence as a  _ power _ . It unnerved him to think that the ancient one’s abilities were so similar to his own.

_ If I have the power of the stars in my paws, what does he have? _

All of this was why Jayfeather was now headed down into the tunnels. He knew, somehow, that if he confronted Rock alone in his place of dwelling, he would get more straightforward answers than he would have obtained by returning to the Moonpool with Lionblaze and Dovewing at his side, as they had done previously only for the ancient cat to vanish in a flash of lightning. It was the middle of a perfect newleaf day; the Clan would assume he was out gathering herbs. He would do just that once he had spoken with Rock.

Easily locating the tunnel entrance nearest to the underground river, he tasted the air to make sure there were no other ThunderClan cats nearby before stepping inside, feeling the cool earth underneath his paws, knowing that the darkness had enveloped him by the absence of warmth on his pelt. He let his paws guide themselves to the chamber where Rock sat on his ledge, praying that the old cat would speak candidly for once, rather than answering his questions with riddles or telling him to figure it out for himself. The battle was over; there was no further need for this secrecy. The  _ prophecy _ was over.

Or was it?

The sound of the river informed Jayfeather that he had reached Rock’s cavern. But his vision was still dark, and the ancient cat’s scent was absent. There was nothing here.

Annoyance pricked Jayfeather’s pelt as he strode closer to the outcropping where Rock usually sat. He was sure that Rock knew why he had come, and was simply choosing to ignore him. As always, the old fleabag thought only he knew what was best.

Jayfeather’s temper flared. He had had more than enough of the old cat’s enigmatic ways by now. Leaping up onto the ledge in a show of defiance, he yowled out across the empty, darkened cavern. “Just this once, Rock! Just  _ once _ could you try to be  _ helpful? _ ”

There was no response, not that he had expected any. Hissing with disgust, Jayfeather leapt down from the ledge and began the trek back up to the tunnel entrance. The ground sloped upward as he left the caverns behind, realizing what a fool he had been to think that Rock would ever come when he was needed.  _ It’s always been his way to leave me desperately scavenging for answers when I need them most. _ He had no choice now but to wait. His powers had a purpose that would present itself in time—he could only hope that it was not a situation as dire as the battle against the Dark Forest.

The exit was near. He could feel the mild wind of the newleaf forest brushing pleasantly past his pelt, could smell faint traces of squirrel and rabbit, could see the faint glimmer of light that spilled into the tunnels just below the surface.

Wait. He could  _ see _ the light? Had Rock sent him a vision, after all?

But the old cat was nowhere to be found, and Jayfeather was sure he had not been present in the cave, either. Still, this  _ was _ some sort of vision. There was a purpose to this, he just had to find it.

Emerging from the tunnels, Jayfeather found himself bathed in the calm light of the moon. Night had fully fallen over the forest.

_ Impossible! The sun was at its peak when I entered! Have I really been gone for so long? _ Of course he hadn’t. That was absurd. He had only been down in the tunnels a short while, he was sure of it.

Something else felt intensely wrong as well, though it took him a moment to realize.  _ The scent! This forest has no trace of ThunderClan scent! _

By now it was obvious what had happened. This was hardly his first experience with the phenomenon—in fact, it was his third.  _ I have traveled back to the time of the ancient cats. I am Jay’s Wing once more. _ This, then, was why his powers had remained. There was some final task for him to complete to ensure that the future of the Tribe and the Clans came to pass.

He began to pad through the forest to where he remembered the ancients had kept their camp, making sure to steer clear of the stone hollow where the ThunderClan camp was located in his own time. In this era, it was home to a large number of badgers, and Jayfeather didn’t look forward to getting his fur ripped off due to sheer forgetfulness.

But as he neared the ancients’ camp, Jayfeather realized it was not just ThunderClan scent that was missing from the air—there was no cat scent present at all. The ancients had not patrolled their boundaries as the Clans did, but even so, there should have been a far greater trace of cats on the nighttime breeze.

There were no cats living by the lake in this time. In fact, there was no sign that cats had  _ ever _ lived by the lake.

Jayfeather stopped, suddenly uncertain of when he was or  _ who _ he was. If this was not the time of the ancients, then how could he have become Jay’s Wing, who had lived among them as a sharpclaw?

He shook his head. He had challenged StarClan, had walked safely through the Place of No Stars, had created the Tribe of Rushing Water. This was simply one more task to be completed. He would discover his purpose here, he would fulfill it, and then he would return to the tunnels. When he emerged from them into ThunderClan territory once more, scarcely any time would have passed since he left. Everything would work out as it was meant to.

Suddenly he broke into a run, dashing through the trees as if a fox were after him. For reasons he could not explain, he knew he had to visit the lake’s edge. He had to be there immediately. He  _ could not _ miss what was about to happen.

He skidded to a halt at the shoreline, his paws aching. For a moment he was aware of another presence beside the water, but before he could pay it any attention, the world awoke in a flash of fire.

The sun had risen, and as it reflected across the surface of the lake, the tranquil surface erupted in flame. Staring into its depths, Jayfeather glimpsed the world unfold in a single breath. There, written in the inferno as clearly as if he were living it all, he saw the history of the ancient cats, of the Tribe of Rushing Water, of the five Clans who became four. He saw as the cats of the lake traveled to the mountains—and, with a jolt of clarity, he saw the last piece of the puzzle that he had been missing, as cats from those mountains traveled to the forest. He saw as the forest was destroyed and the descendants of the ancients returned to their original home at last.  _ It was always meant to be this way _ , he realized.  _ We always came from the lake. _

The flames climbed higher and higher into the sky, matching the course of the sun as it broke apart the darkness, burning Jayfeather’s pelt in their purity. Yet still he gazed, knowing that there was more to come. With a roar like a lion, words echoed from the fire into his mind, words that would hold no meaning until moons upon moons had passed.

_ The Sun Trail shall lead them to their new home. The Blood Trail shall draw them together once more. _

_ The sky will split, and stars shall rise. _

_ Fire alone can save the Clan. _

_ Four will become two, Lion and Tiger will meet in battle, and blood will rule the forest. _

_ The one who shines like silver will fall upon your enemy and bring about their end. _

_ Before there is peace, blood will spill blood, and the lake will run red. _

_ There will be three cats, kin of your kin, with the power of the stars in their paws. They will find a fourth, and the battle between light and dark will be won. A new leader will rise from the shadows of his death, and the Clans will survive beyond the memories of his memories. This is how it has always been, and how it will always be. _

Countless more came in that instant, so many that Jayfeather knew it would take lifetimes for them all to be fulfilled. Yet, somehow, he could feel the words had found permanence within him, that he would never forget a single one of them.

As the fire at last went silent, restoring the lake’s placidity, Jayfeather turned to his unknown companion. He knew already who it was, even before he took in her long, tapered snout and black-striped face larger than that of any cat.

Nodding to him in unspoken understanding, Midnight turned and crashed back into the trees. They both knew what had happened, and what would happen now.

Peering into the lake, Jayfeather saw that his reflection had changed just as he knew it would. The fire had taken from his body as much as it had given to his mind. But he felt no fear or disgust at his new appearance—only understanding and acceptance. He stayed by the lake’s edge only a moment more, before beginning the trip back to the tunnels.

He was there before he even realized it, his mind occupied by the reality, the immensity of what he had seen. He did not hesitate a moment before stepping inside, calmly walking through the twisting maze to reach the cavern.

This was his home now. Someday, he would leave these tunnels, and return to ThunderClan once more, his pelt and his youth restored, his mind freed of its burden, his powers gone at last. But until that day, he would remain within this cavern, as stationary as the stone itself. He would guide the new sharpclaws in their initiation, and keep his private remembrance of those who did not succeed. He would forge the future and the past, clawing them out every step of the way, etching into history the marks that were always meant to be there, that had always been there since long before he was born. He would watch as the cycle progressed from lake to mountains to forest to lake again, echoing the infinite repetition that was present within his own self. He would watch as Fallen Leaves was abandoned, as Flametail sank, knowing that he had the power to change these events any way he wished, but that all the same he never would. He would know every cat and yet be no cat’s friend, for how could he, when he knew how they all would end? It was not his duty to save them, or even truly to guide them, but simply to point the way, so that they would make their own choices. There was no point in a life held in the paws of another. No matter how hard it seemed, he would never interfere, though the pain of every cat lost too soon would pierce his heart more than anyone would ever know, until he wished to StarClan that he could simply fade away, forgotten by all.

But a wish to StarClan was meaningless, for they were nothing compared to the knowledge he wielded now.

Once, he had been the wing, able to fly freely as he wished, with no burdens or fears. Then he had been the feather, separated from his kin by the withering forces of prophecy, but still drifting lightly on the breeze, able to place his own desires over the needs of the world. Now, with the power of the stars truly in his paws, he was weighed down by the ages that stretched in front of him like the uncountable stars above, unable to move until he had named them all. Now he was as everlasting as the ground beneath his paws, immeasurably powerful and yet entirely powerless at the same time, his very self anchored to the currents of history and doomed to follow them all, keenly aware that he could have broken free any time he wished.  _ Until the lightning strikes and I vanish from even my own sight,  _ he thought,  _ I am as unchanging as stone. _

_ Now and forevermore, until the battle has ended and my destiny has been fulfilled, I am Rock. _

**Author's Note:**

> I reread TPOT and OOTS recently, and this idea began to grow in my head based on several hints throughout the books, ultimately coming to fruition when Rock outright states in The Last Hope that Jayfeather isn't the only one who has powers over other cats' dreams.
> 
> This does conflict with statements made about Rock in Sign of the Moon (where he claims that he was the first Stoneteller) and in one of the field guides (where he claims he was the Healer of one of three Tribes that lived around the lake), but those ideas already conflicted with each other, not to mention virtually everything else we are told about Rock, especially in The Last Hope's prologue where he famously states that he witnessed the first sunrise over the lake. That's the origin story I prefer for him, so that's the one I used.
> 
> Yes, I did invent a prophecy for "the silver cat" where none exists, and yes, I indulged my sense of humor by mentioning that the silver cat would fall. I also linked the Sun Trail from DOTC to the Blood Trail from Hawkwing's Journey, since I always thought it was poetic that SkyClan got its start by following the sun, and ultimately reunited with the other Clans by following it in the opposite direction.
> 
> Comments much appreciated :)


End file.
